of half bloods and happenings
by mcfuz
Summary: A collection of short one-shots pertaining to every character and situation in the PJO universe. Chapter #28: Pollux is late for his brother's funeral. / Post-Labyrinth. Angst-ridden.
1. maybe

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**maybe**

.

Thalia blinked in the sudden sunlight, eyes adjusting from the dimness of the taco restaurant to the harsh atmosphere of the desert. Of course, the first thing she focused on was Percy; like it or not, she cared about him, and worried what Ares - or Aphrodite, for that matter - had said or done to him. Sure, Percy was a seasoned quester and a hero now, from what she'd heard, but he was still just a kid, and he certainly wasn't the sharpest sword in the armoury.

Percy told them a shortened version of his encounter with the love goddess. His face was open and honest, and his story sounded legit enough, but Thalia could sense he was hiding something. Surely Aphrodite wouldn't come all the way out here, at risk of ruining her clothes with dust and sand and other unspeakable things, to deliver a mere warning? There had to be another explanation, another piece to the puzzle…

And then it dawned on her.

Sure, they were on a quest to save Artemis. But Thalia knew that Percy only came, only ran away from camp; only put himself at risk on this adventure because of Annabeth. The two were best friends, but Thalia wondered now if they had the potential for something else...for something _more_. After all, Aphrodite _was_ the _love_ goddess.

And Thalia cursed herself for being so stupid. She had noticed their casual banter, their cutting comments - well, more Annabeth's than Percy's - that held deeper meaning, the way they always teamed up for anything and everything. Looking back on it, it was screamingly obvious, and so Thalia wondered why the two of them just weren't together yet. They seemed like they should be - they _acted_ like they _were_ half the time, for Zeus' sake. She remembered the side glances Percy gave Annabeth when he thought she wasn't looking, and the way Annabeth always seemed a little more distracted with him around. Thalia shook her head in disbelief. It was clear they liked one another, but would it really take one of them nearly dying - she used _nearly_ because she couldn't, wouldn't, _shouldn't_ accept Annabeth as dead - to see it?

Thalia sighed. She watched Percy as he walked on up ahead, next to Grover, silent. Sure, he was an annoying Seaweed Brain, but he was her friend, and so was Annabeth, and even though Thalia cringed at the thought of them doing..._whatever_ couples did, the inner romantic inside her smiled. Somehow, she knew they'd pull through this all right, and hopefully Percy would get over his thickheadedness and see just what Annabeth meant to him.

_He'd better realise it_, Thalia mused, quickening her pace. _Or I might just have to shock him into a decision. Literally. _She caught up with Percy and Grover, her eyes trained on the ground, and hid a smile. Maybe, just maybe, with Percy and Annabeth together saving the world, maybe everything would turn out all right.

.

**Author's Note:** So, basically, this is set in Titan's Curse, when Percy has just finished his audience with Aphrodite in the limo. Any requests for a drabble, please review and ask for anything you want! Thanks!


	2. expectations

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**expectations**

.

"Frederick," Mrs Chase sighed. "You forgot to ask them their names?" Her husband looked to the ground guiltily, and she fixed her gaze on their guests, expectant. The boy with the black hair and green eyes cleared his throat uneasily and stepped forward.

"Er, sorry, Mrs Chase. This is Thalia," he said, gesturing to the girl with the spiked hair and silver chains around her wrists. "And Zoë Nightshade, and…and I'm Percy Jackson."

Mrs Chase's head snapped up slightly at that, her eyes narrowing the tiniest fraction. So…_this_ was Percy Jackson, was it? She's heard so much about him from Annabeth - how much of a Seaweed Brain he was, how well he fought with that sword of his, how much he cared about his friends, et cetera - and Mrs Chase had to say, he lived up to her expectations.

Percy was tall, but not too tall, and his sea green eyes had the same cutting, assessing quality that Annabeth's did, though on a far gentler scale, and much more prone, Mrs Chase thought, to smiling, judging by the crinkles at the corners of them. The look on his face, however, was far from happy, and she listened with increasing dread as he and his friends recounted the past few days.

Mrs Chase pursed her lips. It had taken her a long time to come round, that was for sure, but now she loved Annabeth, perhaps not exactly like a daughter, but enough to make the atmosphere a little more comfortable when the both of them were in the same room. Looking over at Frederick, Mrs Chase could see her husband was distraught. She gathered her thoughts.

"All right. Go on up to the study and I'll bring you some food." She turned, but just before leaving, Percy Jackson caught her eye in his defiant green ones. She managed a smile, trying to ignore the deep sadness she saw in his eyes, the horrors faced by a boy far too young. "Nice meeting you, Percy. I've heard a lot about you." Mrs Chase saw a glimmer of shock flit across his face, but before he could respond, she whirled into the kitchen, her thoughts full to brimming of Annabeth, and of the hope that Percy Jackson was all he was cracked up to be, and would be able to save her step-daughter and bring her safely home.

.

**Author's Note:** Another update? What is this lunacy? And yay, another Titan's Curse drabble! When Thalia, Percy and Zoë visit the Chase's home on their way to Mount Tam…and Percy's hesitation before saying his name? That's because he was about to say Bianca instead. *tear* Oh, and I forgot before: HAPPY BIRTHDAY PERCY WOOHOO EIGHTEEN. Two days late, but he'll forgive me…I hope! (: Review, please, and request the next drabble if you want! :D


	3. broken

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**broken**

.

"Annabeth?"

Rachel spotted her friend sitting by the canoe lake, knees drawn up to her chest. Annabeth's blonde hair was streaked with mud and grime, and the bronze armour she wore looked tarnished, as if it had seen better days. Which, Rachel mused, it probably had.

Annabeth turned slightly, so the setting sun cast long shadows of her eyelashes across her cheekbones. "Hey," she said, sounding upbeat, but Rachel could tell that there was no happiness to her expression, no smile on her face. She sighed, and flopped down next to the blonde.

"How did you know I was here?" Annabeth said, swivelling her body to face Rachel. The latter thought for a moment, staring out across the rippling water. Someone, the Stolls, no doubt, had anchored a canoe in the middle of the lake, complete with fake dummy passengers. The boat rocked in the gentle breeze.

"You're my friend, Annabeth," Rachel said at last. "I _know_ you. Plus, I am the Oracle. It's kinda my job to know stuff." The ghost of a smile flitted across Annabeth's face. "Stuff," she echoed, blinking rapidly. It looked like she was holding back tears.

Silence.

"Hey, do you remember when we first met?" Rachel asked, trying to lighten the mood. "We hated each other, didn't we?"

Annabeth nodded. "I was such a bitch."

Rachel laughed. It felt good, made her feel better than she had in a long while. "So was I. Sorry about that, you know."

Annabeth shook her head vehemently, blonde curls flying. "I'm the one who should be sorry, Rachel. I just…" She paused, turning once more to gaze out over the lake. Rachel realised with a start just how deep the shadows beneath Annabeth's eyes were, just how hollow her limbs looked. She seemed fragile; breakable. This wasn't the Annabeth Camp Half-Blood knew as their leader. This was someone different. Someone _less_. Broken.

The daughter of Athena cleared her throat. "I can't believe how obtuse he was. Percy, I mean." Her voice was thick, but she was obviously making an effort to diffuse the tension. Rachel grinned. "I mean," Annabeth continued, "How could he not see how I felt about him? It was ridiculous."

Rachel was silent for a long moment. "I think… I think he did realise, Annabeth." She looked her friend in the eye. "Well, maybe not exactly. But he sure cared about you. More than- more than anyone else." Annabeth gave her a strange look, as if she didn't quite believe what Rachel was saying, but she wanted to, and desperately. "He loved you, even then. It just took him a while to understand what he felt."

Annabeth sniffled, looking suspiciously like she was crying. "Stupid Seaweed Brain."

The girls sank into silence once more, watching the waves lap up against the canoe lake shore.

Rachel looked down at her bare toes, at how white and small they looked in the deepening shadows.

Annabeth took a deep breath, as if readying to dive underwater.

Rachel smiled to herself. She stood.

"Come on, Annabeth." Rachel held out her hand which, instead of taking, Annabeth just stared at.

"Uh…where?"

"Counsellors' meeting. Remember?"

"Oh."

Rachel sighed, tilting her gaze towards the purple clouds overhead. "We'll find him, Annabeth. We will. I know it." Annabeth's shoulders shook gently with the smallest sob. "He'll come home. I'm sure he will." Rachel smiled gently at her friend, once more extending her hand. This time, Annabeth took it, letting her friend pull her to her feet. "Come on, then," Rachel murmured, casting one last look at the rippling water behind her.

"Friends don't abandon one another, Annabeth," she whispered, watching the blonde who seemed to want to linger at the lake for as long as possible, as if somehow, Percy himself would appear at the horizon. "Percy won't abandon you. And I won't either, because like it or not, you're stuck with me."

Annabeth turned towards Rachel after what seemed like an eternity of waiting. Arms still linked, they began to walk slowly towards the Big House. "You're my friend," Rachel reiterated, grip tightening on Annabeth to make sure she didn't slip away into nothingness. "Even if you are a bitch."

This elicited the smallest of small smiles from Annabeth, but for Rachel, that was enough. She blinked away the forming tears in her eyes and, together with Annabeth, broke into a run, the setting sun sky glowing both orange and purple behind them.

.

**Author's Note:** Longer than my others, but it felt right, somehow. Hopefully you enjoyed it, **amazingirl96**, who asked for an Annabeth-Rachel friendship fic at the end of TLH, when they're late for the head counsellor's meeting! Thanks for the drabble suggestion! Any more, just feel free to review and request! That applies to everyone! Thanks to first reviewers, **amazingirl96** and **The Ace of Owls**. You guys are the best!


	4. a beginning

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**a beginning**

.

Lacy knew she was mad the moment the new kid at school ripped off his pants to reveal a pair of hairy legs. And no, not hairy as in _geez, that guy seriously needs a shave_, but hairy as in _my God, those thighs belong on a mountain goat, not a human!_

Well, there she was, spending the typical afternoon at her dad's hair salon, skimming through the black and white newspapers - she always stopped to look at the pictures, even if they were pretty awful ones of the country being torn to pieces by that freak storm system last week - when, lo and behold, the new guy from her grade flung open the door to enter. It was kind of normal, Lacy guessed, except for the fact that he wasn't wearing any pants. And where the pants should've been…well, there was enough hair down there to make Lacy shriek.

Her dad, being a typical dad, didn't hear her - he was far too engrossed in his latest customer. But something he did hear, a moment later, was the smashing of the huge glass windows across the front of the store as a weird scaly thing too big to be anything but a fairy tale slithered its way inside. Lacy's dad yelped, dropped his razor and almost slicing off his client's ear. The woman didn't seem to mind. She was too busy high-tailing it out of the store to worry about OH&S issues.

Lacy backed up against the far wall, knowing deep in the marrow of her bones that this freakishly tall monster was only after one thing - her. It turned its head, scaly nostrils flaring, but before it could strike, the new kid grabbed her shirt collar and dragged her from the salon. He wasn't gentle doing so, either. Lacy's head bashed against the brick wall outside - really, _really_ hard - and the whole world tipped out of focus. Her vision went fuzzy, the buildings around her distorting into the types of things you see in circus funhouse mirrors. There was a strange buzzing in her ears, and then suddenly the sky went black and Lacy knew no more.

.

She woke in a wood-panelled room, flannel sheets encasing her body even though it was still summer (just, anyway). She sat bolt upright in bed, her braces clinking unpleasantly together, before registering that she wasn't alone. In the corner of the room, three chairs were occupied: one by that new kid with the - _oh God_, Lacy thought, as she looked down at his legs. She forced her gaze away.

The other two people in the room were a handsome guy with intense green eyes who looked about sixteen, leaning his head casually against the wall, and a pretty Asian girl who reeked of make-up and bad news. Lacy narrowed her eyes warily at the girl, recognising the unmistakable scent of designer perfume. She reminded Lacy of the bullies at school, the ones who teased her for being dyslexic, and who tugged on her plaits when the teachers weren't looking.

The green-eyed guy noticed she was awake first. He straightened in his chair, casting Lacy a disarming smile, and nudged his companions. The girl looked up from her fingernails, cocking a single eyebrow at Lacy, taking in her dishevelled clothes and rumples hair. Lacy blushed.

"Well," the girl began, "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, and all that. I'm Drew, head counsellor for Aphrodite, blah blah blah; I hope you enjoy your stay." She stood from her chair. "Oh, and before you come and settle in at the cabin," Drew gave Lacy a condescending once-over, "Make sure you clean up a little. Thanks, hon." The girl exited, leaving the overpowering smell of Lola perfume in her wake.

The handsome guy stood as well. "Sorry about Drew," he said. "She's just not used to being head counsellor yet…you'll get to like her, I just know it." The guy sounded pretty sceptical himself. "I'm Percy, by the way. I know this must be confusing for you…d'you want me to show you around, explain things a bit?" He smiled kindly, his eyes warm.

Lacy hesitated. _Don't talk to strangers_, she told herself, but then again, if they'd wanted to kill her, they'd had a million and one chances to do so while she'd been unconscious. So, what the hell. Lacy nodded, and slid her legs out of bed, noting in dismay how pale she was, and how weak she felt. Percy stepped forward and helped her up, steering her towards the door.

"We'll go slowly," he said. "Oh, and this is Midge. He's sorry for knocking you out like that." The goat-dude nodded, and Lacy scooted past him quickly on her way to the door with Percy. She still didn't trust that new guy - _was he even a regular guy?_ she wondered - and didn't want to take any chances with him. She shuddered to think of those…those _legs_. Ugh.

Percy led Lacy down a longish corridor, and out onto a large porch painted sky-blue. "Whoa," she breathed, taking in the scene. It was a kind of summer camp, but no summer camp Lacy had ever been to included a lava climbing wall, what looked like a sword-fighting arena, and…was that a _chariot_ race going on? Lacy stared at the sight in wonder.

Percy's arm dropped from around her waist. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood," he said, and Lacy could hear the smile in his voice. "I know this must be weird for you, I remember my first day here… Come on, and I'll show you our orientation film. Hopefully it'll help." He walked slowly back inside and turned in the doorway, waiting for Lacy to join him.

She lingered. The smell of fresh strawberries heightened her senses, and even though she was confused about everything, a little creeped out by goat-boy - or was it Midge? - and didn't entirely believe that this was all real, she felt happier than she had in a long time, and, finally, after so many years of moving place to place with her dad, she felt like she was finally home.

Lacy turned her back on the campus, took Percy's outstretched hand, and followed him into the house, unable to shake the feeling that the biggest adventure of her life was about to begin.

.

**Author's Note:** Different to what I was expected to write…but when the writing muse takes hold, you just have to go with it. And yeah, this is set at the end of TLO. I always imagined Lacy to be one of the influx of new campers after the war…she seemed too young to be anything but. So, yay! Thanks to everyone for reviewing! Hopefully Percabeth next, guys! {Oh yeah, and I entirely invented Midge. It was super hard coming up with a name for him…hope it sounds plausible and satyr-like!}


	5. manners

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**manners**

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"Travis?"

A cold voice sliced through his daydream, and he grinned. He could have recognised that voice anywhere, and it belonged to the exact person he was waiting for. He opened his eyes, squinting against the bright sunshine. A shadow stepped in front of the light and blocked its path. His smile widened.

"Kitty Kat. Fancy seeing you here, huh?"

Katie Gardner scowled, blowing a loose wisp of her blonde-brown hair from her face. "Get out of it, Travis. And don't call me that!"

"But dear Kit Kat, it suits you!"

"Oh, go shove it up your arse, Stoll."

Travis laughed, enjoying the way Katie's face screwed up in annoyance. "Manners, Miss Gardner. Do I hear a 'please'?"

Katie kicked him in the shin, and his smile slipped slightly as he winced. "Just get out of my way, Stoll."

Travis sighed, stretching his arms. He wouldn't admit to Katie that he'd been sitting in the doorway of the Demeter cabin for well over an hour, just waiting for her to arrive. He knew what she'd say if he did. Plus she'd probably hit him even harder.

"Do I hear a 'please', Kitty Kat?" he repeated, staring up into her face. Her eyes were round and brown and scrunched in anger, and there was a warm spray of freckles across her olive skin that were so cute he wanted to scoop her up into his arms and kiss her bruises - because there happened to be quite a few - away.

_Whoa! Where did_ that _come from?_ Travis shook his head slightly, unable to get the image of his lips on Katie's out of his head. If she knew what he was thinking…

Katie huffed and puffed on the doorstep, her left arm weighed down by her luggage. Travis plastered on his smile again, waiting, trying to push out the image of Katie's smooth, bare-skinned arms wrapped around his chest..._oh, gods._

"Fine, Stoll." Katie looked pissed. "Fine. Would you please move your sorry little arse out of my way?"

Travis stood, his lanky height giving him a whole head's advantage over Katie. "As you wish, my lady," he said, bowing at the hip, partly to mock her, and partly to hide his blushing cheeks. Katie barged past him, accidentally-on-purpose whacking him in the stomach with her suitcase. She walked inside cabin four, dumping her stuff on her bed. She was about to close the door when, as if on a whim, turned slightly and looked Travis straight in the eye. "Thank you," she mumbled, not sure why she was doing saying those words or why her heart had begun to flutter at a million miles per hour or why Travis had to be just so goddamn_ charming_.

He grinned again, straightened his spine, and took off on a jaunty walk.

Katie slammed the door behind him.

.

**Author's Note:** I have a creepy obsession with the Stolls right now...it's decidedly strange. Maybe it's a crush...but, considering I think of myself as a daughter of Hermes...well, it's just weird, so… ANYWAY. Read and review, please. I'm currently working on a MAMMOTH, MARATHON Tratie one-shot, pertaining to how they met and how they got together. It's going to be long...and probably not published for a while, but be on the lookout, anyway! Thanks again to **amazingirl96** and** The Ace Of Owls** for awesome reviews!


	6. red leather

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**red leather**

.

Robert closed his briefcase, careful to make sure none of his notes were sticking out at the sides. He clicked the metal clasps shut, running his hands briefly along the leather before setting the bag down on the floor. He sighed, sifting his fingertips through his thinning hair.

"You made the right choice, you know."

Robert spun around, startled, to find a woman slouched in the doorway of his office. She wore a red leather jacket, skinny jeans and black combat boots. She was sort of beautiful, in the way sleeping tigers and lions are sort of cute. Robert had never seen her before in his life.

"I'm sorry…?"

"The case today. Those boys deserved prison. It's a shame the rest of the jury didn't think so." The woman cocked her eyebrow at him. "They'll be sorry for it. Karma'll get them in the end." Her smile was bright, full of clenching teeth and wet, red lips. Robert swallowed.

"Um, thanks, I guess. I...I don't remember seeing you in the jury…?"

The woman shrugged. "I'm always around."

"Right...so you knew those guys?"

The woman gave him a strange look. "Of course I do. Once you know one, you know them all. They deserved prison."

"So you keep saying."

"Well, how about we talk it over a bit more? You up for coffee?"

Robert blinked. In the space of two minutes, he'd gone from heading to his boring home from his boring work to being asked out by a total stranger dressed entirely in leather and with more menace than a bikie. But_ had_ she just asked him out? He couldn't be sure. "You want coffee...with me...to talk the court case over?" he clarified.

That wet, red smile was back. "Among over things."

Robert cleared his throat. "I don't think I caught your name…?"

Her eyes were dark and brown and hot as a blue Bunsen flame. "That's because I didn't give it to you. So are we on for coffee, or not?"

Robert checked his watch. His wife wouldn't be home from work for about an hour. And this stranger was far more enticing, more_ dangerous_, than Anna would ever be.

"Deal," he decided. "I'm Robert. Robert Nakamura."

The woman smiled, pushing herself up off the wall and plucking a speck of dust of her leather jacket sleeve. "There's a good place round the corner, Robert." She turned and walked out the door, not even waiting to see if he would follow. But of course, he did.

"And by the way," she called over her shoulder, quietly and softly and yet he could hear every word, "My name's Nemesis."

.

**Author's Note:** Probably not what you all expected...but a plot-bunny came and starting nibbling my brain, so I just had to get it out of my system. I reckon this couple's relationship would be fun to explore in a longer story. Tell me what you think! Oh, yeah! Plus a little self-plug: I posted up a one-shot yesterday centring on Calypso. If you're interested in reading a mainly introspective fanfiction 5 000 words long, with one-sided Percalypso and hints of Percabeth and Hermes/Calypso, then please check out** a love affair, of sorts**. Thanks!

{And even though Nakamura is a Japanese surname, no Japanese given names fit, IMHO, and so I decided that Robert's parents and Ethan's _grand_parents were originally of Japanese origin, who moved to America and named their son the Anglo-Saxon Robert. Just to clarify.}


	7. dreams

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**dreams**

.

In the couple of months or so before the Argo II sailed from Camp Half-Blood, Annabeth dreamed more vividly than she had in her life.

More often than not, the dreams were terrifying: full of horror and blood and those _two-seconds-until-your-imminent-doom_ sort of feelings. They left her gasping for breath as she woke, clawing at the bed sheets, staring around in wide-eyed confusion as her brothers and sisters stared back, in various states of sleep, concerned.

The first few dreams she'd had, she awoke screaming. But as time went by, she adjusted, as did her siblings, and soon all that would happen would be a whimper or two in the darkness, a spasm of limbs, a trickle of a tear as it leaked out mid-nightmare. The rest of the cabin would stay slumbering, oblivious to her distress. And Annabeth liked it that way. She hated feeling _vulnerable_.

A week or so before the ship departed camp (perhaps less, perhaps more, she lost track in her worry over Percy), Annabeth feel asleep almost instantly. Her head hit the pillow - followed by the crackling sound of the photos she'd stuffed inside the case, photos of her and _him_ and him and her - and she was out like a light.

She had her worst dream yet.

When the vision began, it was fragmented, jumbled like a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle. She saw great white cliffs of ice, felt brushes of burning cold snow against her skin, heard broken yells and distorted screams as if made from a great distance. And then the whole thing snapped into focus, blistering her eyes with the stark whiteness of the landscape before her.

And she saw him. Percy. He stood on the edge of the cliffs, something like a golden trident in his hand but obviously topped with an animal of some kind - Annabeth wasn't sure. She didn't even glance up to check; her attention was focused on Percy.

Sure, she'd seen him various times in her dreams. She'd even contacted him (at least she hoped so) and he'd asked that single question which broke her heart in two: _Are you real?_ But this was different. This vision was clearer, sharper, and felt as if she were a part of the obvious battle that was raging.

She studied Percy.

His hair was dark and matted, longer than it had been when she'd last seen him in the flesh. His eyes were just as bright, just as fierce as she remembered, and the smile crinkles at their corners were deeper, as if he'd laughed a good deal of late. And his face…his expression was vicious, full of dangerous fire and wicked sarcasm, and it showed determination and not a single trace of fear, even as he plunged the trident - what_ was_ that thing, really? - into the ice before him. Annabeth felt more than saw the trembling of the ground: she could almost hear the cracks spreading, the supports weakening, and suddenly…suddenly Percy wasn't there any more.

He'd fallen, just as he'd fallen all those years ago from the St. Louis Arch. Except that this time Annabeth wasn't there to find him.

And she screamed. Oh, gods, how she screamed.

When she woke, her siblings were staring at her again, worry and even terror painted across their sleepy faces. Annabeth swallowed, but it felt like she was consuming a burning coal. She whimpered, burnt with her fear for Percy, traces of distraught tears glittering on her cheeks.

And oh, how that dream haunted her.

.

**Author's Note:** SORRY FOR THE WEEK-LONG HIATUS. Teehee. I was…occupied…yeah, that was it…anyway, hopefully this was all right. I have PLENTY of ideas now, so stay tuned! R & R, please!?


	8. shifted

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**shifted**

.

Leo's not sure when things between he and Reyna start to change, but he's sure as hell glad they do.

He remembers seeing her for the first time, stepping off the Argo II, she with her hand on the pommel of her sword and her dark eyes snapping as they took in the new arrivals. She was beautiful, maybe even more so than Thalia and Khione - and that was saying something, because he still had dreams about Khione even though he'd long learned she was totally evil, and kind of totally _dead_ - and looked like she would slice down anyone who spoke unless spoken to.

Oh boy, that girl was definitely his type.

The minute he'd begun talking to her, she'd glanced at him with slightly more disdain than one might direct at a swollen, blood-sucking leech. But that didn't deter him. In fact, Leo could've sworn she almost cracked a smile at his jokes.

That is, until Jason stepped came into the picture and Reyna zoned in on him like a nuclear missile, all sharp looks and beseeching words. To be honest, Leo was peeved. This was one thing - sorry, person - he did _not_ want to share with Jason.

Leo preoccupied himself from this disappointment with some good old fashioned bromance, as supplied by the one and only Perseus Jackson. The guy was awesome! Leo couldn't believe what he'd missed out on with Percy being kidnapped and all. But even though they had a pretty rocking conversation, Leo couldn't help but let his gaze wander over towards Reyna…she was so goddamn beautiful, and he just couldn't concentrate with her around. He was pretty sure Percy felt the same way about Annabeth, too, the way they sucked face.

Anyway.

Camp Jupiter was totally wicked. It had everything an ADHD demigod would want: weapons made of gold - dang, they were _fine_ - and huge, stomping elephants; a weirdo guy who ripped up soft toys for a living; and a whole city full of hot girls - not that Leo noticed, though. Well, maybe just a little. Maybe to see if Reyna would get jealous…but no such luck. She didn't even _look_ at him.

The next few days passed on in this fashion: Leo cracking a corny joke, Reyna sniffing disapprovingly and Jason trying to keep the peace between the two. But, once or twice, Leo could've sworn he saw Reyna's lips twitch, and her eyes shine with laughter. Only for a moment, however, because as soon as she noticed him watching, BANG! Her wall was straight up again, and she wore her typical mask of seriousness. Leo hated it when that happened.

After a week or so, Leo decided the only way to do things was to get some time alone with Reyna. That was bound to work like a charm…

And so that is how he ends up like this, sitting in front of Reyna, so close their knees are touching. She's trying to avoid eye contact, but isn't very good at it. Whenever she glances up, Leo catches her gaze and she frowns again, but she doesn't move away. Leo swallows his apprehension, reaches out and takes her hand. She flinches, but once again, doesn't pull away. Their gazes are locked for a split second or two, and Leo can feel the heat burning inside him travel up along his arm, causing their clasped hands to begin to smoke, before the door of the principia slams open and Jason marches in, followed by the rest of the Seven. Reyna stands so suddenly, her golden praetor's chair rocks backwards and almost falls to the ground, only stopping as Leo catches it. She avoids his gaze, clearing her throat and reforming her mask, her wall, her shield from the world.

For the rest of the day, Reyna doesn't speak to Leo. But sometimes she'll glance up, catch his eye, and smile.

And Leo knows then that something between the two of them has shifted, and that it will never be the same again. And he likes it that way.

.

**Author's Note:** Yo, yo, yo! Here's some Leyna fluff for you guys…sorry if it's not your cup of tea. I ship Leo/Reyna A LOT, but weirdly, I also ship Leo with basically everyone else…Leo/Thalia, Leo/Khione…SPEAKING OF LEO/KHIONE, I actually have a separate 104 word drabble on them, entitled _'falling'_. I considered putting it in this collection, but it didn't seem to fit, so…anyway. I also have a Silena/Drew bonding (or un-bonding) fic, called _'our bonds are breaking'_, so I'd appreciate it if you checked that out too…as well as _'a love affair, of sorts'_, which is Percalypso (one-sided, though). Anyway…so this drabble will probably be AU or AR when Mark of Athena is released, but I'm going to keep my fingers crossed! Please review, as always, and I'll see you next time! :D


	9. two halves

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**two halves**

.

Annabeth is Percy's first - and only - true love. She is everything he is not - neat, frantic, organised, intelligent - and yet they fit together perfectly, like jigsaw puzzle pieces falling into place. They are best friends too, are willing to die for one another, and they simply cannot imagine a world where _Percy and Annabeth_ doesn't exist. It's impossible to them. Improbable. Entirely ridiculous and a complete fantasy - or rather, a complete nightmare.

One cannot survive without the other: they hunger for each other as one would hunger for bread, thirst as one would crave the sweet taste of water after a week in the dry desert. Without Percy, Annabeth would be broken. She would crack completely in two, split open like an eggshell, her heart bleeding for the loss. Without Annabeth, Percy would not exist - and not just Percy, but _Percy Jackson, Son of the Sea God, Hero of Olympus_ - without Annabeth, the saviour of Manhattan and, indeed, the world, would never have been there to save it.

Without each other, _Percy and Annabeth_ would simply be Percy and Annabeth, two halves of a whole that would never be able to meet, to touch, to join in blissful fullness - and to live in a world without the two of them together would be to live in a forever grey landscape, a place of black and white without colour and laughter and love - a terrible world to live in indeed.

.

**Author's Note:** Yeah...I wrote this in about fifteen minutes, because my guilt at not updating finally ate away at me. I'm not happy with this at all, and it's ridiculously metaphorical and probably completely pointless, but...I'd appreciate it if you reviewed. (:


	10. run

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**run**

.

_there's a monster in my bed  
there's an animal screaming down upon my neck  
oh no you'd better get up my friend_

.

There was a pounding in his ears which had nothing to do with the thunder that rolled in the sky overhead. Leo shivered in his jacket, because even though it was a thick army fatigue the season was winter and it just wasn't enough over only a thin t-shirt. He glanced behind him at the looming house, all sharp corners and polished wood that shone in the bright flashes of lightning. God, he hated this place; which was why he was getting out of there. Tonight.

He shut the side door behind him, making sure it locked. He waited for the almost inevitable shout from upstairs of _'and where are you going?'_, but it never came. His foster parents were sound asleep. Leo sent his thanks up towards anyone who bothered to listen, before setting off at a run down the garden path and out the gate. It swung shut behind him, a deceitfully cheerful structure.

His footsteps were light on the pavement, the way he'd trained them to be. He'd been caught too many times to count because of how loud he'd been escaping, and he's learned from that, the way he always did. Even someone listening for something specific tonight would be hard pressed to hear him.

The rain lashed against his body, but as it was a change from the stifling air within the House, as Leo called it, it was very welcome. But it was cold; almost too cold, and for a single moment Leo felt tempted. Oh, God, he was sorely tempted to just light up and stay warm. But he couldn't. He could no longer trust himself, not after That Night. Never again, he'd promised to himself then, and he said those words aloud now. "Never again, Valdez," he growled, and the thunder rumbled above as if in response.

The street sign came into view. Leo rounded the corner, the pavement stopping abruptly and his feet meeting soft, springy grass. He kept on running.

Leo knew this area well. Three months he'd lived in the House, and he'd tried to run away often enough to have the surrounding area pretty well mapped out. He remembered that there was a sewer opening just ahead, a manhole in the middle of the street. God, he wished he didn't have to go down there, but he knew if he really wanted to run away, he'd have to do some things he wasn't happy about. And walking around in a dank hole full of unspeakable things was definitely on that list.

Sure enough, the streetlights up ahead illuminated the iron circle in the middle of the street. Leo ran over towards it and knelt down, fingernails digging down around the rim and struggling to lift the weight. Yeah, he was scrawny. That sort of thing happened when you spend your whole life on the run.

Finally the lid was off. An awful smell wafted up towards him, and Leo gagged. What was down there, seriously - discarded pairs of his Aunt Rosa's Fruit of the Looms? Ugh. Leo shuddered, hesitated a moment, but then thought of what awaited him back at the House and decided that whatever was down there would certainly be better. He placed his feet cautiously on the ladder rungs, felt around for a bit making sure they continued and didn't just finish into open air, and then pulled the cover back over the manhole, trapping himself in darkness.

Once again, Leo was tempted. And once again, he quashed his desire and continued on in the cold blackness. After a minute or so of climbing - honestly, he was going pretty slowly because he did _not _want to slip and fall into something nasty - Leo reached the ground. Surprisingly, it was rather dry, and Leo let out a sigh of relief.

"Well, Valdez," he murmured to himself, squinting and trying to see what lay beyond, "You're in quite a fix and no mistake. But it's no use turning back now."

And with that, Leo set his shoulders, hardened his feeble heart and took off at a run because, after all, that was the only thing he could do.

.

_what a mess we're in  
oh no you'd better get up my friend  
oh no you'd better get up my friend, yeah  
oh you know you better run my friend_

.

**Author's Note:** Words in italics belong to the band Boy & Bear, taken from their song Milk & Sticks. CHECK. IT. OUT.


	11. a conversation

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**a conversation**

.

Percy knew exactly who was standing behind him long before he decided to turn around.

It was a certain feeling in the left side of his chest, like his heart was being pressed hard against his ribcage until tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. The sort of feeling that made him want to smooth back his hair, tuck his shirt in. The sort of feeling that reminded him of kisses in the lake, of scented pillows, of bare skin against bare skin; of Annabeth.

Percy turned. Sure enough, a woman stood a mere three feet or so away, scrutinising him with eyes that changed from brown to blue to grey faster than he could think. She was dressed far nicer than he was (granted, it was midnight and he was knee-deep in Long Island Sound, his pyjama bottoms curiously dry, whereas she was a goddess direct - he assumed - from luxury at Olympus) and her hair whipped like liquid about her in the wind, melting with a fluid ease into the soft blonde curls he knew so well. Her lips, sheathed in coral lipstick, curved into a smile.

"Aphrodite," Percy murmured, feeling that familiar constriction of his throat that appeared whenever he was around the love goddess. "Stopped for a chat, then?"

To Percy's surprise, instead of answering, she kicked off her candy-bright heels and waded into the surf beside him. Her toenails were painted the colour of the sea. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, as melodious and addictive as he remembered. "Perseus Jackson. It's been a long time."

"I can't say I've missed you."

Her laugh tinkled in the air, bouncing out across the waves. The wind changed direction subtly, and her hair moved with it, shifting to the left and brushing delicately up against the nape of Percy's neck, a feeling so familiar he shuddered. "But I have missed you, Percy, and I would say that's enough for the both of us."

"What do you want?"

Aphrodite turned to him, her stormy eyes mocking and jealous and delighted all at once. "Nothing of substance, of course. I merely wanted to _chat_, as you so eloquently put it. Besides, I rather think you've done enough for me already, haven't you?"

"I would say I've done more than enough."

"Well, my dear, that's what everyone who deals with me, says."

"I didn't deal with you. You decided to take an interest in my life, that's all."

"Oh, Percy." Aphrodite smiled a wet, pink smile and Percy was inexplicably reminded of Nemesis, the goddess of revenge, who he'd only met once in his life and was a serious force to be reckoned with. And he supposed, in a way, Aphrodite was too. What was it her husband had once told him? _Be careful of love. It'll twist your brain around and leave you thinking up is down and right is wrong. _"The moment you met Annabeth," Aphrodite continued, "We were doomed to deal."

Percy closed his eyes, suppressing his anger that had risen like a great tide within him. The feat took all his strength. "I don't like to associate Annabeth with any kind of doom, thanks."

"I know, my dear, believe me. I know."

Percy's eyes flickered open, taking in the bleeding and burnt sky that was slowly appearing on the horizon. He turned his head ever so slightly to the right, to look Aphrodite in the eye and ask her what she _really_ wanted from him- but she was gone. All that remained of their encounter was a pair of candy-bright heels toppled over on the sand and the faint wafting of jasmine perfume in the air.

And just like that, the push against Percy's heart disappeared, and he was left alone with his thoughts once more.

.

**Author's Note:** Sorry again for the wait. Writer's block is a serious pain, isn't it? Anyway, here's something a little different for you all, I hope. Please review, it means the world to me! Oh, and if any of you wanted to read a little freeverse poetry, I suggest you check out my story **_infinite_**. Thanks!


	12. incalculable

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**incalculable**

.

He was a mathematical problem that she just couldn't solve.

When they'd met, Annabeth was sure she had Percy Jackson figured out. He seemed to be a stupid, naïve, look-before-you-leap little boy. She looked down her nose at him because that was the natural thing to do. She assumed his success with the Minotaur came about through sheer dumb luck.

And then the toilet incident. Suddenly, Annabeth found herself sizing up this scrawny not-yet-a-teenager as a worthy opponent. She had to shake herself from this mindset - literally. Percy Jackson is beneath you, she told herself. So what if he has powers over the plumbing? It doesn't mean he knows how to use them, and they don't make him any less idiotic.

And then Annabeth heard through the grapevine of Percy's triumph in the arena against Luke. Her heart seemed bang against her ribcage double-time, because _nobody_ could beat Luke, not even her, not even Thalia (when she wasn't a tree, anyway). The next time she saw Percy, she found herself examining him as she had done when he'd first come to camp. She scanned him with an analytical eye, searching for something, _anything_ that set him apart from everyone else. But there was nothing. He was still plain old Percy Jackson, dumb as ever.

She decided to test out her theory of his utter worthlessness during Capture the Flag, and once again, he surprised her - but not in the way she expected.

A son of Poseidon? Annabeth kicked herself. _That _was why he was such a mystery. She knew nothing about the sea god and didn't really want to learn anything either. He was her mother's mortal enemy - and suddenly Annabeth's heart felt a little heavier at the comprehension that maybe Percy would have to become her enemy, too.

But then they started the quest, and she was able to forget about old grudges and family disputes. Instead, she just focused on getting to know _Percy_, and what she learned rather shocked her (though by know she shouldn't really be surprised). She knew he was a mystery, but not _this_ much of a mystery.

It took Annabeth several years to get to know the real Percy Jackson, and when she finally did, she was drawn to a conclusion: Percy was absolutely and unequivocally a hero, and there was nothing anyone would ever do or say to dispute that.

And the thought made Annabeth smile, because Percy was no longer an incalculable being. Her was her Seaweed Brain, and that's all there was to it.

.

**Author's Note:** Again, I felt guilty for not updating, so here's something only a little more than adequate. Sorry. :P OH YEAH. And anyone who wants to check out a little aside PJO metaphorical piece, you're welcome to read _**sea, sky, earth and flame**_.


	13. misunderstandings

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**misunderstandings**

.

"You know, Percy? I like you."

Percy glanced up from his Chemistry notes, taking a moment or two to focus on what he just heard. "Sorry?"

Rachel smiled, her chin held steady against the table by the palm of her hand. "I said that I like you, Percy, and I know you like me too." That confident smile he'd first noticed about her was back in full force, and he couldn't help but blush slightly under the glare of those piercing green eyes.

"Um…that's great, Rachel. So…can you just help me with this equation-?" He was cut short by Rachel's glare. She was frowning, now, her eyebrows scrunched together and the freckles along the bridge of her nose joining up to form a great brown smudge. "Are you all right?"

Rachel sighed, pushing away her textbooks and leaning back into her chair. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Percy. I think I've had enough studying for now."

"But we just started-"

"I know, but I'm bored. I'll go grab a snack." She stood, turning away quickly so he couldn't see her face and walking into the kitchen. Percy stared down at his books in confusion. Was it something he said? He can't remember anything bad, exactly…_gods_, why did girls have to be so difficult?

"Hope you're hungry for fruit salad, Percy." Rachel was back, dumping a large glass bowl full of strawberries and blueberries and banana onto the table. She slid back into her seat, studiously avoiding Percy's gaze.

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

Percy cleared his throat and swallowed his last berry, before shifting uncomfortably in his own chair and tapping his fingers along the polished wooden surface of the table. "So, um, I guess I should be going now," he said, half-rising and feeling awkward and a little rude.

Rachel shrugged. "Sure. I'll see you out, then. You have money for a cab?"

"Oh, nah, I'll walk. Thanks, though."

At the door, Percy paused in the act of lacing up his shoes. "Are you- you sure you're all right, Rachel?"

"Yes," she nodded emphatically, even smiling, though the grin seemed to waver at the corners as if it was as faked as fool's gold.

"Okay. I guess I'll see you in a couple of weeks, or something-"

"A couple of weeks? Why?"

"Oh, um, Annabeth asked me to, ah, come into Camp. Something to do with the canoe lake, I think."

"Oh. Annabeth. Right." Frostiness spread through Rachel's voice, and her gaze hardened until her eyes were like sharply cut emeralds. "See you whenever, then. Bye, Percy."

She shut the door in his face, so close that his nose touched the wood. He paused for a second, dumbfounded at the turn the conversation had taken, then grimaced and turned away, zipping up his jacket against the cool spring breeze that drifted down the street.

By the gods, he thought, making his slow way back home, what in Hades just happened?

.

**Author's Note:** My gods…is this a Prachel fic? WHAT AM I DOING? To be honest, I have no idea. I don't know whether this is Prachel or Percabeth, either. Percy's just a little confused, I guess. I felt like writing this, so…yeah. If this wasn't already clear, it's set between BotL and TLO. And by the by, standard disclaimer applies: I am not male. Therefore it is obvious I cannot own Percy Jackson. (Please review!)


	14. picking up pieces

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**picking up pieces**

.

_"We'll see," she promised. "After this is over, you, Annabeth and me: cheeseburgers and fries at that hotel on West Fifty-sixth."_

_ "Le Parker Meridien," I said. "You're on."_

.

Thalia wanders in through the doors, ridiculously conscious of the absence of her trusty bow and quiver of arrows - but of course she can't bring those here. And the war's over anyway; it has been for days, weeks, even. It's not like she'll need the weapons…but her heart still contracts, her mind still screams at the sheer vulnerability of it all.

But she doesn't say it out loud.

Thalia spots Percy and Annabeth at the table near the far end of the complex. She grins at them, and even from this far away she can see their entwined hands resting on Percy's knee, perfectly fitted together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The sight makes Thalia smile, but it also makes her sad. She thinks of Luke, and suddenly the sun isn't shining as bright as it was mere moments ago. She has an urge to run and scream and say _why are you so normal_ because surely the world should stop turning as her best friend is dead.

But she doesn't say it out loud.

"Hey," Thalia grins, pulling out a chair and sliding into it with the ease born of being a Hunter. "You two look cosy." Her friends' shifting grins remind her of days long gone, of hours spent on the run, licking stolen ice-creams by a campfire, and stealing gentle kisses with Luke while Annabeth was sleeping. Thalia has a sudden urge to tell her two friends this - _we had perfect lives, you know, until Grover came along_ - and to see the smiles that would unfurl across their faces as they agree that maybe Luke is right: maybe the gods do need to get their priorities sorted.

But she doesn't say it out loud.

"Um, yeah," Percy smiles, almost guiltily, and Thalia senses him squeezing Annabeth's hand beneath the table. "So how- how are you, Thals?" She considers his question; examines their surroundings to make sure they're alone.

"I'm actually better than I thought I'd be," she says softly, filling in the empty spaces between her words with a long look into Percy's sea-green eyes that conveys everything: _don't be stupid, I'm not fine; I'm actually falling to pieces._

But she doesn't say it out loud.

"That's good," Annabeth pipes up, her soft voice startling and almost sending Thalia shooting back once more in to the past. She pulls herself together, gives herself a mental slap. The war is over. Luke is dead. _Why can't you just move on?_

"Yeah." An awkward silence descends, full of the soft nuances of first love between Percy and Annabeth and the nervous intruding of Thalia as she realises that maybe these two need some time alone. She decides to steer the conversation into safer waters; namely, a topic that doesn't include any thought tangents about Luke. Preferably. "So, Percy. You wanted to know what the Hunters had been doing?" She knows his answer, but sometimes it's just nice to ask.

"You remembered," he smiles, and perhaps for the first time, Thalia sees why Annabeth fell for the guy. His grin lights his whole being up from inside out, especially his eyes which shine like beacons, signalling out to sailors lost at sea.

"Of course."

"Well, I would so love to hear of your daring exploits, Thalia. What did you do; hunt a couple of deer? Rid the world of a few more boy-crazy teenage girls?"

And for the first time in a long while, Thalia laughs. Percy seems surprised; he thought she'd be insulted. But soon he joins in, then Annabeth, and then the three of them are giggling at nothing, trying to pretend that _yes, everything is all right_ when in fact it's the opposite. At least for Thalia, anyway.

But she doesn't say it out loud.

What she does say is something different entirely. "Wouldn't you like to know, Perce. But seriously. We heard some-" Again Thalia looks over her shoulder, paranoia building as she makes sure they're alone. "-some rumours. Whispers. Stuff you might not want to hear."

Percy is immediately on edge. She can feel it in his razor sharp senses, can see it in the hard diamonds of his eyes. Annabeth, too, is stiff; her side pressed firmly against Percy's as the both of them lean in, closer, closer, jostling to hear what Thalia has to say.

Thalia pauses, building the suspense. "You know: rumours. Such as, let me see…that Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase are a couple and I'm the last person to know?" She starts laughing again, long and low, trying to ignore the aching of her own heart as she thinks of Luke, telling herself that _you're a Hunter, you're sworn off boys - especially dead ones - so pull yourself together!_

Percy and Annabeth realise immediately they've been duped. Mirror grins slide onto both their faces, a puzzled, dopey one onto Percy's and a sparkling, astute smirk on Annabeth. "Very funny, Thals," Annabeth says dryly, but there's amusement in her voice and Thalia likes the feeling of making everything okay, if only for a little while. She knows that later, in the dark watches of the night when the Hunters are resting and getting ready for the morning, she will stare up at the moon and the stars and wonder how they can shine so brightly when the rest of the world is wreathed in fog.

But she doesn't say it out loud.

Percy recovers from the joke, and asks seriously what Thalia had been up to. She launches into an account of daring escapes, capturing renegades, hunting dangerous foes and the like. By the end of it, she's all talked out and slumps down into her chair, sipping on the milkshake she ordered halfway through her tale. Percy and Annabeth exchange glances and raised eyebrows - a silent conversation Thalia recognises all too well from her own with Luke. She realises that this time, they definitely need some time alone.

She stands, zipping up her silver parka and grinning down at her friends. "Gotta fly, guys," she says, breathing in the indoor air and already longing for the outside weather. "Don't say you had awesomer adventures than me, Percy, because that _so_ isn't true." She smiles at the both of them then turns away, headed for the door. As she reaches it, she glances back at the last minute and winks at her curly-haired friend, the girl who's so important to Thalia she's almost like her sister. "And Beth," she calls back. "What'd I tell you? He's a keeper." _And he's perfect for you in the exact way Luke was for me._

But she doesn't say it out loud, only closes the door and gets ready to face the day.

.

**Author's Note:** Hello? *crickets chirping* Anyone there? Well…this is embarrassing. I'm so, so ridiculously sorry for the long wait, but I had exams which I had to study for and even though I had an idea for this it took ages for me to get the words out how I wanted them, so… This one's for **amazingirl96**, who came up with this concept and who's supported me through everything. Thanks, m'dear. (By the way, the italics at the beginning of the fic are the excerpt from Last Olympian).

Also, a shameless self-plug. I have quite a few new stories I'd love for you all to check, out, so, here goes: **The Girl with Kaleidoscope Eyes** is Piper's life in snapshots, and even though I don't really like her character at all I found I could relate to her and thus this fic emerged. **Definition of a hero** is just some character studies of eight of our favourite heroes. **He builds it up, you knock it down** is a HP/PJO crossover drabble involving Leo and Molly II, which sprang randomly into my head and which I'm quite proud of. **Sunshine and Saltwater** is again another HP/PJO crossover series of drabbles involving Poseidon and Penelope Clearwater. And a couple of HP self-plugs include **Is he in love with you yet? **(a BillGinny sibling bonding fic), **Bruised **(Hermione-centric angst), **Anarchy **(good old Marauder fun**)** and **your soft fingers play my skin like a piano **(HarryGinny all in dialogue). So, yeah…sorry about this, just asking for some constructive criticism and a wider reading audience! Thanks! xoxo

And to anyone who read this far, you're absolutely fabulous! Review, tell me if you did and request a drabble or entirely new fic! I'm feeling generous. (:


	15. knights and fairy lights

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**knights and fairy lights**

.

The stars are splashed across the sky like a banner, but there is nothing to celebrate tonight. There will be nothing to celebrate for a long, long time, or so she thinks anyway.

The moon is like her heart, waxing and waning with the seasons as her deception cuts deeper every day. No one will ever suspect poor, sweet Silena, with a tongue of quicksilver and the beauty of a nymph. Sometimes, when she's glowing with praise under Luke's golden gaze, she's happy to do her job. It makes her feel useful; loved.

But most days, she hates herself and the world she lives in with every miniscule molecule of her being.

[She learnt the word _molecule_ from Charlie. He's always so nice to her.]

She sees the other campers, fighting for their freedom, strapped up in their armour like the noble knights of old. Their eyes are pinpricks in the growing darkness, shining like fairy lights on Christmas Eve.

[Her own eyes are black as coal, their lustre long covered with the grime of betrayal.]

And things that once made her smile - her sisters, a brand new makeup bag, those concert tickets everyone wanted - are now melted in the ashes of the fire she started all those years ago, when Luke pressed that small silver charm into her fingertips and warmed her from head to toe with a gentle whisper.

[Charlie can do so much more, not just warming her but making her boil. Of course, back then, she barely knew the difference.]

The stars are splashed across the sky like a banner, but there is nothing to celebrate tonight. Silena's limbs are numb with cold and the waves lap up against the hems of her jeans and the wind blows her hair in every direction, pulling and tugging and poaching just like her heart is ripped in so many places, dragged north and south and east and west all at once.

She knows her life is wrong. She knows that all she has left are the few ragged pieces of an old photograph, torn beyond repair. And she knows she deserves every moment of this agony.

[Because Charlie is dead now and it's all her fault and she never should've sold her soul to the devil.]

.

**Author's Note:** Trying a different sort of approach to a drabble. Hopefully it's turned out okay. xoxo


	16. bourbon

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**bourbon**

.

There is no goodbye for Lee Fletcher. He is simply there one minute, and the next, he is not.

* * *

His childhood is a jumble of jigsaw pieces.

Sunshine on his back and the salty smell of the beach. / His little sister brought into the world, looking so much like her parents and nothing like Lee. / The sight of his mother out cold on the kitchen floor, the scent of bourbon filling the room and making him gag. This is not the first time.

* * *

He isn't sure when he knows that he's different. Maybe it's when

he never fails to score in basketball. / his cuts and bruises fade over night, always. / his mother's boyfriend looks at him in disgust after an accidental fire in the basement.

But it's probably the moment his mother screams _freak_ at him. He can still taste the blood on his lips from her taloned hand.

* * *

Camp is a reprieve. He pretends he is just like everybody else, that his mother lovingly told him who his real father was and sent him off for his own safety. Soon, he has spun a web of lies so thick he starts to believe them himself.

* * *

He has read about Kronos, has heard countless ghost stories that made him quiver and shake. He never imagined that those nightmares would become his reality.

* * *

War is here. Michael and Will do they best they can, marshalling and gathering troops while Lee is faced down by the fiercest of monsters.

He doesn't see the club before it is too late.

blood / pain / screams / oh gods, the pain.

* * *

There is no goodbye for Lee Fletcher. He is simply there one minute, and the next, he is not.

broken / irreplaceable / a mistake that's unforgivable.

[He dies with the smell of bourbon and salt in his nose and the taste of blood in his mouth.]

.

**Author's Note:** Lee has always intrigued me. Please review!


	17. rainbow

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**rainbow**

.

The scars on her body are _redredred_. They mar her skin like a bleeding chessboard, creeping down her arms and up her spine and across her jaw. She covers them up, hides within layers of cloth so the world can't see what a freak show she's become. He tries to help her, but for the longest of times, nothing works. She's a turtle in her shell, a pearl within a clam.

But then. But then.

He peels off her clothing, piece by piece. He kisses the scars on her arms, her stomach, the bald surface of her scalp. He takes the pain away, and when his kiss reaches her lips, all she can see is _redredred_, but maybe that's not so bad anymore.

* * *

Orange is the colour of fall, of bleeding sunsets and walks on the beach with the sand digging into her toes. It's the juice that's always sitting in a glass on her bedside table when she wakes up in the morning, and she doesn't have to be a rocket scientist (although if she wanted to, she probably could) to know who leaves it there. And when she sees him, the smiles they share are secret, and she always tucks his away in her breast pocket for safekeeping, because one never knows when one will need a grin.

* * *

They sometimes lie together under the sunshine, feeling the yellow warmth of summer seeping into their bones. He takes her hand and holds it tight, and kisses the top of her head where small tufts of golden curls have begun to spring up.

He holds her and tells her she's beautiful, and for the first time in forever, she believes him, because the yellow heat of love is stirring her insides and the embrace he gives her is real and worth one thousand lies.

* * *

His eyes are green and melt her heart and she loves him more with each passing day.

* * *

Blinding blue is the shade of the sky when he gets down on one knee. She's in his arms before the question can slip from his lips, and the ring he hands her fits perfectly, like they both knew it would.

* * *

They're sitting together on the subway, her head resting against his and the gentle rocking motion soothing them both to sleep. Her dreams are liquid violet, the colour of the night sky, and it's only when she wakes up does she realise they've missed their station, and ridden the train all the way to the end of the line.

* * *

And indigo is the bouquet of flowers she holds as she walks down the aisle, with him standing before her, and he holds her gaze as she moves, never once letting go because that was what he promised, so long ago on the edge of the abyss. _Together_, she'd said, and had meant every word.

* * *

Red is his _kiss_, orange is his _gifts_, yellow is his _love_ and green is his _eyes_. Blue is _the moment_ he held her heart in his hands, and violet and indigo are the last pieces of the puzzle, _together_, forever, until the very _end_.

.


	18. sacrifices

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**sacrifices**

.

With a jerking, shuddering lurch, the world grew still. Swords dropped from tired hands; shields rolled away from their owners. Bubbles of laughter were blown and burst as the heroes realised that it was done.

_Done_.

Leo fell to his knees, head in his hands, and tried to remember the last time he had felt so free.

Piper looked up at the sky, wondering if the endless blue was a sign of times to come.

Jason hunched forward in his jumper, tugging the sleeves tight down his arms as the cold air of victory seized him.

Reyna lay down on the rocky ground, closed her eyes, and began to cry.

Hazel picked up a diamond from between her feet and threw it as far away as she could, smiling.

Frank cradled his firewood, marvelling at the fact that he'd survived.

And Annabeth brought her hands to her mouth, gasping for air and trying to keep the horror inside, for though they had won and Gaea was sleeping once more, Annabeth knew better than anyone that to win a war, you had to lose a battle. She curled in on herself, not caring about the stones and sticks that dug into her sides, and felt her shoulders shake with unshed tears. She was a hero, and she was free.

But she was alone.

* * *

Percy greeted the darkness of Tartarus like an old friend. The Doors had been tricky to close; they were heavy with age and secrets, but he'd managed to do it, in the end. If he tried hard, he could still remember Annabeth's face: her smile, her princess curls, the harsh glint in her eyes when he'd told her to _go, save yourself!_

He sank to the ground, remembering the way Annabeth had kissed him whenever he said anything stupid.

Percy had the feeling she wouldn't kiss him again.

.

**Author's Note:** Something lovely and morbid to counter the last cheery Percabeth chapter. In case it wasn't clear, Percy stayed behind in Tartarus to close the Doors, and thus won the war for the heroes. On other news, though, TODAY IS THE FIRST DAY OF MY CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. I'm so pumped. Oh yeah, so, please, please review. And standard disclaimer applies. xoxo


	19. new year's eve

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**new year's eve**

.

Ten. Her hands are in her lap, clasped, ten bitten nails looking perfect in the starlight. It'd be awkward to reach in there and take on of her hands, he decides, so unless she moves them…

Nine. His heart is going at an utterly ridiculous pace. He can count nine freckles dotting the side of her neck, and he wonders what it would be like to kiss them, one by one.

Eight. The waves whisper on the shore, hissing like harmless snakes. There are eight holes in her belt, he thinks absently. She buckles it on the third.

Seven. A single blonde curl hangs down over her forehead, a small butterfly clip with seven shiny pearls keeping the rest in place. He wants to reach over and take the clip out, run his fingers through her loose princess curls.

Six. He swallows heavily. There should be some sort of rulebook for situations like these. He looks down and sees six small scars creeping up the side of her leg, white and pale and each more beautiful than the last.

Five. Should he have kissed her by now? Maybe he should make a move. He shuffles closer, ever so slightly, biting his lip. There are less than five inches between his hip and her hip. The space between seems hopelessly solid.

Four. Well, that didn't work. She shivers slightly, four little tremors down her body. He stills, thinking that maybe this is his chance. He stretches an arm out, then instantly pulls it back in. She's looking right at him.

Three. "Seaweed Brain?" she whispers, and those three syllables shake with unspoken words. He breathes out slowly, smiling, and shifts through that seemingly impenetrable, solid space until they are almost nose to nose.

Two. His hands are horrendously sweaty. He tucks them behind him, not wanting her to notice. Her eyes dig deep inside his heart, two grey pinpoints of light in a world of otherwise darkness. He is infinitely glad he decided to delay the hand-holding.

One. He's so close to her he can hear her heartbeat, thumping in time with his own. They pound one rhythm, a steady beat, and he brings his hand up to her cheek, cradling it in his palm.

Zero. In the end, she's the one who closes the distance between them, and he has never felt more alive.

.

**Author's Note:** HAPPY NEW YEAR! So, this is infinitely AR, as you would've noticed. Percy was never stolen away. You might ask why he's so wary of all this kissing business, however: haven't they been dating for over four months? Well, that doesn't make Percy any less obtuse, and their relationship is still in its early stages. He has a right to be nervous. So, here, as requested, something far lighter and hopelessly fluffy. I've been on a recent Percabeth kick, haven't I? Well, don't expect the following chapters to be about them, I think they need a bit of a break. In other news, if you're a fan of Once Upon a Time, I'd be gratified if you checked out my story hooked. I suppose it's obvious who I'm referring to in the title! Please review this chapter, thanks. xoxo


	20. heroes

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**heroes**

.

"Hey, Pipes."

Piper turns, her hand dropping unconsciously to her dagger before realising the boy before her is no enemy. His hair sticks up in greasy quills, and his shirt looks burned through in places - she can see his coffee skin beneath - but the smile he's handing to her like a gift is cranked to a million watts.

"Leo," she grins, folding her arms instead and relaxing. "What brings you out and about? I haven't seen you in forever."

"Oh, you know, I've had places to be, things to fix, girls to flirt with." He winks. "Annabeth insisted I get some rest, though. Practically threw me out of Bunker Nine."

"Oh, you poor dear."

They sit down side by side on top of Half-Blood Hill, staring across at the tree that's still called Thalia's pine. The Golden Fleece hangs soft and low in its branches and the sleeping dragon Peleus snores quietly at its base.

Leo fidgets with something from his tool belt. "Hey, Piper," he says, and she blinks twice because he hardly ever says her name in full.

"Yeah?"

"You ever wonder -" He closes his mouth and swallows. "You ever wonder if we'll be too late?"

Piper stares at him. "For what?"

He gestures miserably. "Everything. The camp, the world - Percy."

"Oh."

What seemed like a soothing summer's day has turned into something else entirely. Piper lets herself dwell on Leo's words for a long minute, thinking about the possibility that everything they do might not be enough. "All the time," she finally whispers, clenching her fists and refusing to turn to Katropis for advice.

"Me too." Leo smiles weakly, placing the object he'd been fiddling with on the ground in the space between his knee and Piper's ankle. It's a small metal ship, and Piper doesn't have to look too closely to know it's meant to be the _Argo II_. "I'm not a hero, Pipes," he says, watching the replica warship with sadness in his eyes. "I'm scared."

"Me too, Leo." A tear runs like a stream down her cheek. Piper lets it fall. "But I think that's what makes you a hero. Even if you're scared, or angry, or whatever, you still do what has to be done. Regardless." Their gazes pass one another and snag. "You're the bravest person I know."

"Why thank you. I know it much be hard to resist such charm." He sends her a crooked grin that doesn't fix everything, but damn well tries to.

"More than you can imagine," she smiles, and even though it's a terrifying journey that lies ahead of them, even though they know they will probably die within the year, it's okay because right now they're alive, and together, and working as hard as they can to beat the bloody odds, and that's what makes them heroes.

.

**Author's Note:** Funnily enough, Piper's grown on me. I didn't like her one bit in TLH, but when I read Mark of Athena…well, let's just say I enjoyed her narration more than I'd expected. The friendship she shares with Leo is beautiful, hence this chapter.

On a ridiculously exciting note, there are 45 reviews to this story. If this chapter pulled it up to 50 - IF ONLY FIVE PEOPLE REVIEWED - I would forever be in your debt. I love you all so much. xoxo


	21. repair boy

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**repair boy**

.

Leo had always been good at fixing broken things. Of course, most times he was the one who'd broken them in the first place, but that was beside the point. He always knew what he'd done wrong, and he always knew how to make it right. Until, today, that was. Because Percy Jackson was standing in his workshop, scarred, scared and no longer handsome, and Leo had no idea what to do.

Percy was clearly broken, but Leo hadn't the faintest how to fix him.

"So, Percy," he tried, fiddling with his tool belt. "What can I you for?"

Percy scanned the workshop, looking uneasy and awkward in the unfamiliar surroundings. "Nothing," he said finally, his eyes coming to rest on Leo. The sea lived inside of those eyes, Leo was sure of it. "Nothing at all."

They both knew it was a lie.

Leo pulled out two stools and offered one to Percy. They sat. "You know, when I first heard that prophecy, I wanted to run away. Like I always do." Percy stayed silent. "I've been to - I don't know how many foster homes. I've lost count. I could never stay. I don't know why, I just -"

"You were different," Percy murmured, almost talking to himself. He smiled sadly. "I know the feeling."

"When I heard _to storm or fire the world must fall_, I just wanted to leave as soon as I could. Because I'm the fire guy. It was obvious I was meant to - to -" Leo let out a snort of laughter. "Well, you know how it turned out. You're the storm guy, huh?"

"Yeah." Percy let out a reluctant grin. "You ever feel like we got the short straws in life?"

"All the time, man."

Percy sighed and stood. "Thanks, Leo. You're a cool guy. You remind me of -" He faltered and cleared his throat. "Well, you know." And Leo did. _Beckendorf_.

"Stay golden, Percy," he called as the older demigod turned to leave. Percy paused for a moment in the doorway and let out a smile that wasn't sad or reluctant.

"You too, repair boy."

Leo stayed in his workshop for a long time after Percy left. Maybe he'd just fixed something that was broken, or maybe he'd only tried to. Maybe Percy would never be whole again. But that was okay, Leo finally realised, because he knew he wouldn't be either. They were broken together, and it was a million times better than being broken alone.

.


	22. we're fine

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**we're fine**

.

if anyone asks, tell them we're fine.

.

after the war, leo's smile grows small. sure they've won, but they've lost a lot too. he can still feel the shudder of reyna's lips on his, and then the shudder of her entire body as a spear broke her spine in two.

he feels like a puzzle no-one can be bothered to put back together, but no-one needs to know that.

if they ask, he tells them he's fine.

.

after the war, piper tries to convince herself she's real. she sees flashes of the battle again and again, in her mind or in katoptris, sees jason's lightning and percy's storm and leo's flames. she sees herself burning up, sees that sword slide clean through her abdomen, sees herself fall to the ground.

she's thankful to will solace, make no mistake. but she wonders if death would have been so bad.

but if anyone asks, she tells them she's fine.

.

after the war, jason's mind is a kaleidoscope. he cannot believe they won. he cannot believe piper almost died. he cannot believe reyna did.

the scars from that stupid drakon never heal, and sometimes he wakes in the night, chest aflame. people hear his yells and rush to his aid.

when they ask him if he's okay, he says he's fine.

.

after the war, hazel finds herself floating. her feet seem to barely touch the ground, her mind drifts to and fro, her blood breezes through her veins. she feels so free she could explode.

free from gaia. free from the gods. free to do what she wants.

so when people ask, she tells them she's fine.

.

after the war, frank counts his lucky stars. [he actually does count them; he looks into the sky at the huntress running with her bow and numbers the dots that make up her smile.] he thought he'd be a goner for sure. he will never be able to thank leo enough for fixing his firewood.

when people ask, he tells them he's fine, and for the first time in his life, it's the truth.

.

after the war, annabeth wanders in a haze. her dreams are haunted by tartarus' demons. she can feel arachne breathing down her neck, can feel the spiders crawling across her skin like it's a road map. she doesn't spend more than two minutes from percy's side. she can't.

if anyone asks, she lies and says she's fine, even though she won't ever be again.

.

after the war, percy doesn't give a damn. he doesn't want to _play_ anymore. he was sick of playing a long time ago, and the gods know it.

all he wants is annabeth and peace, but he knows it's only a matter of time before everything starts all over again. he wishes for oblivion.

but if anyone asks, and they do, he tells them he's fine. a bitterer lie has never crossed his lips.

.

if anyone asks, tell them we're fine.

.

**Author's Note:** Generally frustrated at life today, thus I give you this petty angst. I don't like it much, but I hope you do. Review? xx


	23. time

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**time**

.

Thalia Grace chases the sun. (And she's so goddamn tired.)

At first it's an adventure, and she's glad she chose the path she did. She visits her friends, sometimes, when she can, but her heart belongs to the Hunt. (She misses them so much when she's away she feels like her lungs will burst from the pressure inside.)

She's invited to be a bridesmaid at Percy and Annabeth's wedding, and she is _not_ crying, thank you very much. There's just something in her eye. (When the mortal guests ask what year of school she's in, she wants to shoot them.)

And two years later when the Jackson baby has colic and screams half the night, she is glad she is not Percy or Annabeth. She would never survive being a mother. Or a wife, for that matter. (She can't help but remember the wild look of joy on Annabeth's face when she held her daughter for the first time; she tries to forget what she's missing.)

The years spin past and she clings to her friends with cobwebs and fingernails. (They're twenty-five going on seventy, and she will be fifteen for eternity.)

When she's in the hospital with Percy, standing by Annabeth's bed and staring at the white sheet that covers her from head to toe, she hates herself. (Annabeth had cancer; she was given two months to live, but barely lasted a week. Percy wastes away the next year and only Thalia is alive to see him go.)

The world slips by her in great gusts of time. (She wonders if this is how the gods feel; like they're clutching at shadows melting away from the midday sun.)

She watches empires rise and fall. (Camp Jupiter survives longer than Camp Half-Blood; but soon they are both rubble in the breeze.)

She watches hearts be broken and tears be shed. (Her own, her own, all her bleeding soul's own.)

At first it was an adventure, but when a sword slices through her jugular and the world is painted red, all she sees are the pages of a history book long forgotten in the sands of time.

(Thalia Grace chases the sun, but it's always out of reach.)

.

**Author's Note:** I am suspiciously proud of this one. Please review. xx


	24. kiss me

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**kiss me**

.

They've just killed their fifth drakon when Percy pulls her aside and slides his lips against hers. She fights for breath.

"What are you doing?" she hisses, pulling away and scanning for any monsters that might be lurking in the watching shadows. Percy's lips quirk.

"Kissing you," he says slowly. "I thought that much was obvious."

"In case you hadn't noticed, Seaweed Brain, we're at the bottom of the pit of hell and _this close_ to dying and you're kissing me?"

"I'd noticed, Annabeth," he says softly, hefting Riptide over one shoulder. "But I can't help it. You're just -"

"Just what?"

"Just here. Now. And I don't know how long this will last."

She looks at him in this darkness cracked with the bronze light of his sword. She looks at him and remembers seemingly endless days of summer stretching out before them. She looks at him and remembers kisses in the strawberry fields, kisses in her bedroom, and kisses underwater in the canoe lake.

She looks at him standing there, mouth set in a hard line and angry red scar crawling up his neck to the tip of his ear.

"Then by all means, Seaweed Brain. Kiss me."

.

**Author's Note:** A nice short one this time, exactly 200 words. My Percabeth feels were crying this morning, so I stamped this one out for you. This is for the darling _trollalalala_ who never fails to read and review my work. You're a gem. xx


	25. valentine

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**valentine**

.

It's Valentine's and you buy yourself a rose because you can't bear it any longer.

This emptiness.

You set the flower in a vase by your bedside and your brothers and sisters know better than to comment on it. The sunshine leaks into the water through the half-closed curtains but the glass is cold as your fingers slide across its surface.

You tried to find a blue rose but all they had was red.

After a while the petals droop. One falls off and then another. You take the rose from the vase because you don't think you have the guts to watch it fade.

The thorns in the stem prick your fingers and blood dripdripdrips from the wounds as you throw the rose away.

**.**

**Author's Note:** Obviously set while Percy is missing. I'm actually quite happy with this. Review? xx

**Dedication:** for _ricecookerwritings_ because her reviews are LEGENDARY.


	26. love

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**love**

.

"Love's frightening," Drew's father told her the night before she found him strung up on the rafters, spinning a slow pirouette from a fraying rope. "Love is not worth your time, Drew. I don't want you hurt."

.

"Love's slippery," Drew's grandmother told her, as she lay dying in a white-washed room stained with blue. The heart monitor went _beepbeepbeep_. "Love is something you should hold onto, Drew. I don't want you to lose it."

.

"Love's for children," Drew's first boyfriend told her as he slipped his hands under her shirt to feel the flatness of her chest. _But we are children_, she wanted to whisper. "Love is stupid, Drew. I don't want to love you."

.

"Love's precious," Drew's head counsellor told her, one year and one day before her death, though neither of them knew it. "Love is who we are, Drew. I don't want you to forget it."

.

"Love's pointless," Drew's friend told her bitterly one wintry morning, as they flicked up the collars of their shirts to hide from the wind. "What's love today if you're going to die tomorrow, Drew? I don't want to fight this war for _love_."

.

"Love's pale," Drew's brother told her, unshed tears in his eyes from the slap she'd just given him. "Love is barely there inside you, Drew. I don't want to be around when it disappears altogether."

.

"Love's hate," Drew's mother told her as she tried to piece the world back together. The Giants had ripped all their hearts to shreds, and through the battle was over the war for peace was far from won. "Love is within us all, even those you claim to despise, Drew. I don't want you to keep pretending it's not there."

.

_Love's love_, Drew wrote in her journal after the shrouds had been burned. There had been too many to count. _Love is only knowing what you're missing once it's gone. _

.

**Dedication:** for _amazingirl96_, who's been with me from the beginning. I couldn't have come this far without you. xx


	27. funny

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**funny**

.

It's funny, really. How once upon a time death was something Nico dealt with every day but now it makes his head pound and his heart flutter and he can no longer trust the shadows that flank his every footstep.

How nameless creatures and nameless things whisper to him while he dreams and how he can never sleep with the lights out because they'll find him, they'll find him, they'll find him and tear him to pieces and there will be no-one there to hear him scream.

It's funny, really. How his Stygian iron sword slips and slides in his grip and how he can't shadow-travel anymore because it makes him nauseous and reminds him of _there_.

How his smiles are barely seen and his eyes are lacklustre and his skin is all the paler because sometimes he can't bear to venture outside and face the world.

How Percy has Annabeth and Annabeth has Percy but when Nico stays awake during the bitter watches of the night (because he's too afraid to close his eyes) all he has to keep him company are the moon, the stars and his own ragged breathing, until dawn seeps through the sky and he can finally (maybe) let his guard down (not really, not at all, never again).

It's funny, really. How he's the son of the god of death and yet is afraid to die.

(It's funny, because if he dies there will be no sunshine and no laughter to keep the darkness at bay.)

.

**Author's Note:** Can I just say…_91 REVIEWS?_ WHAT IN THE CRAZY MOTHEREFFING WORLD? Um, wow? THANK YOU. One hundredth reviewer gets a spesh one-shot *gasp!* all to themselves! And um, yeah, about this chapter; _of half-bloods and happenings_ was lacking some SERIOUS Nico angst, so…

**Dedication:** For _The Ace of Owls_ who's now _The Indie Flower_; thanks for stickin' with me through it all. xx


	28. to share

**of half-bloods and happenings**

**to share**

.

Pollux is late for his brother's funeral. The grime of war still clings to him like a second skin, and does nothing to stop the pain from piercing every beat of his heart. There's no room to breathe here, and the thick, cloying smell of death lingers even amongst the living.

He feels weak at the knees as he watches the flames devour his brother's body, licking hungrily up and down the purple shroud, up and down Castor's immobile limbs, lank hair, glassy eyes. He wants to jump on the pyre and _laugh_ as the fire takes his life as well -

But there are some things even twins cannot share.

.

**Author's Note:** Hallo, all! Returned from holidaying in Deutschland! Will not be updating as frequently (schoolschoolschoolschool) but ONE HUNDREDTH reviewer - I still cannot believe it - will get their one-shot as promised. It just might take a while. (:

Oh, and something else. I have fallen utterly in love with Game of f-ing Thrones, so any stories I post here from now on will almost certainly be in that category. Love you all. xx


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